Broken Gait
by ichibanseiken
Summary: Sequel to Wild Horses. Byakuya wants Renji to enter a horse show on Zabimaru, forgetting that his own, crippling social anxiety makes crowds almost impossible to bear. When Byakuya's horse Sen goes lame, his world falls apart, and it's up to Renji to show him that his weakness is also his greatest strength. Yaoi, m/m.


_**Hi everyone! Some of you were after me to write a sequel to "Wild Horses." Well, it came out last week! The excerpt below is from "Broken Gait," which is a sequel to "Wild Horses." Byakuya, a horse trainer, has been with Renji for 3 months and everything seems to be going fine. Renji works hard to learn all he can about running the stables, because his natural horseback riding talent will take him only so far. Byakuya wants Renji to show his stallion, Zabimaru, at a horse show – but Renji is naturally nervous. **_

_**The book is available on Amazon under the same name, "Broken Gait," and my pen name is still "Kate Pavelle." Enjoy!**_

BYAKUYA PICKED himself up off the dusty arena once again, struggling to even out his breathing. Focusing on the air going in and out helped him manage his temper as he watched Zabimaru dance off to the side again, intercepted by Renji on Senbonzakura.

_Sen would never dump me._

_Sen is entirely too perfect to do such a thing._

His mind flashed back to the way Senbonzakura had moved under him in their first competition, only a year after Grandpa bought Sen for Byakuya to train. They won. A year later, it felt like they were one creature joined at the saddle, moving together, thinking together. Sen traveled to college with Byakuya, and his presence made the teeming hordes of other people bearable. Had Byakuya been able to take Sen to the large auditorium for his business classes, he figured he might not have flunked half of them.

Zabimaru was nothing like Sen. Zabimaru was a young brat in comparison, and where Zabimaru resisted Byakuya's efforts, Sen would have responded to the most minute shifts of Byakuya's weight, to the slightest change in tension of his legs or of the reins in his hands. Sen was his perfect equine soul mate, the one friend he could talk to with his guard all the way down. They understood each other.

"Again," he said with grim resolve.

"He threw you three times already." The concern was thinly veiled in Renji's voice.

Byakuya fought not to glare and managed to restore his customary calm. "He doesn't get to win. He may not be forward yet, not eager to submit, but he will learn that dumping me is futile." He walked over to Renji, who had caught Zabimaru's reins. "Come along, Zabimaru," Byakuya intoned, switching to his smooth, hypnotic voice. "We will walk in a circle for a bit and then we'll go back to the mounting block."

"Would you like me to do it?" Renji asked.

"No. This is between the two of us." Byakuya looked up to see Grandpa Kuchiki, who had been riding on the other side of the arena, observing his efforts from Dusty's back. He was taking his time to figure out what his aged body and experienced mind could accomplish astride the older horse while in a Western saddle. Byakuya watched him leg Dusty into a trot and make his way over.

Even though he'd learned almost all he knew from his grandfather, it was hard to believe that a man of his age resumed riding only a few weeks ago. He could do more in a Western saddle, almost blind, than most young and fully sighted people could do with proper dressage tack after a decade of training.

"Ask Grandpa. He'll tell you stories of horses that got ruined because the rider gave in."

"That's true," Grandpa Kuchiki reminisced. "How is he doing on that bit, Byakuya?"

"He isn't chomping, so that's good," Byakuya replied as he positioned the dancing, nervous Zabimaru by the mounting block. "Now I need him to stand still, though."

"Rub his neck right above his withers," Renji suggested.

Byakuya bit back a retort and extended his hand to Zabimaru's neck, his fingers sinking into the stallion's black mane. "Yeah, that's better, Zabimaru," he hummed. "Your master's a wiseass. Your master would teach me how to suck eggs, but I know what you like, you sweet asshole. You like to be in charge. Guess what, my darling Zabimaru. I shall respect you, but you shall submit to me."

Byakuya monologued for a while, then slipped his foot into the stirrup and eased his weight onto Zabimaru's back. Almost immediately, Zabimaru shied and broke into a trot. Byakuya let him go around the arena several times—then he picked up the reins and asked Zabimaru for canter. Zabimaru was eager to obey the request for a faster, smoother gait, and their transition from trot into canter was smooth and familiar. Finally, they moved as one.

Waves of tension made contact with Byakuya's legs and hands. He felt the nervous energy in the animal beneath him and felt sorry for him. Zabimaru in the dressage arena was much like he himself in a crowd of people.

_Stressed._

He slowed to a walk. "Renji, would you set up a pair of jumps for us, please?" He saw his partner's eyes widen in surprise.

"Okay," Renji said. He slid off Sen and handed his reins to Grandpa Kuchiki. He ran over to pull out plastic blocks and logs, and formed two X-shaped jumps about three horse-lengths apart.

"Is that good?" Renji asked.

"Make them two feet tall and another two feet apart, please. If he can buck, he can jump."

Renji raised his eyebrows but obeyed. Then he retreated back into Sen's saddle.

"NOW WATCH your horse go," Grandpa Kuchiki said in a hushed, excited tone. "I bet he likes to run, doesn't he?"

"Yeah." Renji smiled. "He loves to rip up and down the paddock or across the meadow. The faster, the better."

"I don't know anything about his history, but it wouldn't surprise me if he was a retired racehorse," he said in his dry, old voice as they watched Byakuya canter Zabimaru around the arena, steering him toward the jumps. "Some get retired because they're not fast enough. Others don't make it because their temperament isn't suitable to racing or because they aren't sound for a sport that hard on the body. Your fellow seems sturdy enough... all of them are speed addicts, though. A racehorse needs to be treated like a rank beginner and taught anew. They need to forget the racetrack excitement before you can begin teaching them the basics all over again. Now this boy's been retrained, it seems, but he's also been mishandled. Even now, you'll have to be careful when you bring him out into the open, in case something triggers a memory of the racetrack and he decides to go for it."

The hoofbeats pounded the soft ground at a fast canter as Byakuya rode in half-seat, his buttocks hovering two inches above the surface of the saddle. He led Zabimaru toward the obstacle.

Zabimaru gathered under him and jumped. Renji saw Byakuya's hands touch the stallion's neck for balance as they landed, always perfectly centered and in control as they careened toward the next jump. Zabimaru soared, but the obstacle seemed to have been set a bit too close for his stride length. His forelegs knocked the light log down. They circled around once again, clearing the first jump but steering around the second one.

"Good boy," Byakuya said, leaning forward to pat Zabimaru's neck. He loosened his reins, rewarding him with a bit of temporary freedom. Zabimaru grasped at it, tossing his head in excitement before he lowered it and slowed to a trot.

"They're okay," Renji said toward Grandpa Kuchiki.

"I know—they hit the log on the second jump, but Zabimaru appears to have settled down."

Renji whirled toward him. "I thought you couldn't see."

"They are but a blur, true." Grandpa Kuchiki sighed. "However, I can hear. Their cadence was good at first, but Zabimaru sped up, which extended his gait."

"Should I move the jump further out?"

"No... it's up to Byakuya to control Zabimaru's speed. From now on you'll know, however, that that speed demon of yours takes up more space than Sen. Remember these things, Renji. Every horse is different."

"But they don't adjust the obstacles for every horse at the shows," Renji countered, recalling the video footage Byakuya watched with him.

"True—but those horses obey their riders and adapt. They have trained hard to maintain a very even pace throughout the course. Every step is accounted for. If you want to take Zabimaru to that level, your challenge will be to help him enjoy it. Make it fun for him to do as you say."

Renji narrowed his eyes and followed Byakuya on top of Zabimaru. Byakuya was in perfect control, as always. He tried to imagine Byakuya in a horse show. Then he tried to imagine himself in a horse show and failed.

His sigh provoked Grandpa Kuchiki's curiosity. "What is it?" he said in a patient voice.

"Byakuya wants me to ride that show, and I agreed, but..." "But?" The old voice rasped.

"What's the most common way to flunk a show?" Renji's question had a desperate edge to it, as though he were preparing for an imminent disaster. "Nobody flunks a show," Grandpa Kuchiki said with a chuckle.

"The most common fault, at the beginner level, is a 'break of gait.'" "A break of what gate?" Renji struggled for context. Rodeos had

gates. Dressage shows did not. "Gait, as in the way the horse is moving. Walk, trot, and canter are

your basic gaits. A broken gait is one where the horse changes from, say, a trot to a walk unless you request it. Didn't your classes cover that?"

"No," Renji said. "I'm learning about manure disposal and diseases and stuff." He paused, watching Byakuya for a while. "A broken gait." Renji rolled the words in his mouth, exploring the concept. "So what happens— do they take points off?"

"You get disqualified."

Renji watched Byakuya ride in silence. If riding was anything like real life, he had already been disqualified once. Maybe his past, the whole homeless, jobless stint, was just a break of gait. Maybe he was up to moving at the proper speed now.

"The good news is, there is always another show." Grandpa Kuchiki's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah," Renji said as a smile lit up his face. Just like in life, he'd get another chance. "Nothing to worry about."

_**P. S. Check out the sample read on Amazon – It's different than this **___


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